I Tried So Hard
by Rosella6199
Summary: My name is Lucy Heartfillia and my life is not what it seems. I was broken and torn, I saw many men die and perish within arms reach. I do not deserve the power I have now, I deserve to burn. To burn in hell. "Blinded by fear. Drowning in doubt. Struggling to be free." Rated T, just in case. COMPLETE
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One:**

_Blinded by Fear…._

I can never do what I wanted, never being able to speak for myself. Maybe that's how it should be. Maybe I was supposed to watch my love burn in flames, as his skin melted away. His eyes, I will always remember. The way he stared at me with plea and the sorrow as he realized that I wouldn't come to even say my last goodbyes. But as he closed those beautifully cold eyes and took a deep breath, I knew that he accepted it. I knew that he wouldn't say goodbye to me either, I finally figured out that I lost him forever.

I guess that was the first of the many ways I gave up in life.

…

My mother had passed away when I was of the measly age of ten, leaving me behind to deal with my horrendous father whom I will always dread. He never seemed to care about me at all, although I am the only heir to the family fortune. He only wanted the wealth that his job offers, none of the love I try to send every day of my life.

Ever since I was little, he would always set some sort of arranged relationship with a son from another prosperous family. Usually the old and fat type of people, but I guess he finally got the message because this time around, the male was around my age. He was strikingly attractive, his vivid blue gray eyes stood out the most. I felt so overwhelmed, I couldn't breathe. It felt like there were hands crushing my lungs as my heart clenched and unclenched. The process repeated over and over again.

My pulse started to quicken and my palm began to sweat, his sickeningly sweet smirk did nothing to slow any of it down. I was hypnotized, entranced by the way he smiled or the flow of his voice. I couldn't even focus on anything the people around me were saying, only the way his eyes flickered to me every so often, of the way his lips curved when he smiled.

I was in love, the moment I set eyes of him. And I knew it, I accepted it with all of my heart and soul, I thought I finally found my ticket out of this hell called life. Oh, if only I knew.

We would stay up all night, talking about the books we read or the stars we saw that night. I would go to his mansion on the other side of the city, enter his room without knocking because I knew that he would never mind. That he would sense my presence before I even opened the door. Oh, if only I knew.

One night, I pushed open his door to be greeted with the most horrid sight I had ever seen. Worse than the times I was harassed by the old men, or the times when my father wouldn't even look at me. It was nearly as dreadful as the time I watched my mother float away from me.

I bet you know exactly what I saw. I bet you can already picture the scene, as my mouth froze and the words that died on my tongue. I bet you can see the picture of pure horror on my face and my fists that shook.

The moment I walked in, I saw the maid that he always talked to, laying under his chest, her arms wrapped around his neck, her dress practically falling off and the blush still present on her face. His hands were placed on either side of her head, one leg in between hers.

The moment I walked in, I saw their lips intertwined and the trail of saliva on the maid's chin. Her hands were tangled in his soft locks, her hair tie was undone. His dress shirt had been unbuttoned and his vest was lying on the floor. Both of their shoes were thrown haphazardly around the room.

The moment I walked in, his head snapped up and her eyes slowly enlarging in shock, I bet that she felt disappointed that the moment was ruined. She had mumbled an apology before she grabbed her shoes and dashed out of the room.

I had stared in disbelief, walked over and slapped him. "You bastard!" I had screamed, then followed the maid and ran out.

…

We had fixed our relationship after that; he had claimed that she had engaged the act and that he was forced. I never believed him, but I wanted us to be okay again so I just went along with his words. I never spoke a word about it to my father and he the same.

Although the maid was fired, I had a suspicion that he still snuck out to meet with her. I had to admit, she was beautiful. She had flowing brown hair, contrasting my bright blonde.

We continued spending our nights together, but always in a detached manner. At first, I never noticed it; I thought it was because I was just being paranoid. But I was wrong; he would no longer kiss me. He would rarely even hug me, barely even touch me. We would never hold hands or walk side by side.

But he would still murmur 'I love you's at night before we slept, and I believed him.

…

That night was one of the worst nights ever. I had finally confronted him; I had finally told him that I couldn't take it anymore. He had seemed shocked at first, I could relate to what he was feeling. But that shock morphed into feigned confusion, "What do you mean?" he had asked, I felt stupid for ever believing this man.

We were soon screaming at the top of our lungs, throwing things and slamming doors. Our footsteps as one chased after the other resounded and echoed in the halls, our shouts and yells overlapping each other's. The lamps that were crushed, the shattered glass, the books that tumbled to the ground and the other objects as they collided with the cold floor, broke a piece of my heart.

He had admitted it, without much of a defense for himself. He didn't even try to hide it, I was right. He was always sneaking out to meet with the maid, nearly every night when I was asleep. I was right; he would always lie to my face and never touch me because he made a promise with the bitch on the other side. I never felt so betrayed in my life.

While we were caught up in our argument, a fire had sparked somewhere in the mansion. The maids were running around, trying to distinguish the ever growing flames. The master of the building, his father, had been gone for weeks on a business trip like my father always has.

The fire soon made its way into the room we were in, that room that we once shared. I didn't notice until I smelt the distinct scent of burning flesh. I was nearest to the window at the time, and he had his back to the door. The flames had burst through the now fallen barricade and finally found its prey.

He was crying out in agony and torture, he couldn't move as his legs were planted in the floor in fear. His eyes that captivated me now whispered for forgiveness, but he wasn't the only one afraid. I couldn't breathe, couldn't blink. I didn't know what to do, and I didn't scream for help. I watched him fall to his knees and looked at me once more.

I never said goodbye, he accepted it. I could see the regret in his last breath, whether regretting that he ever deceived me or that he couldn't see the face of the beautiful brunette he snuck out to see.

He never said goodbye, I accepted it. I realized that I lost him, that moment that he closed his eyes and awaited his inevitable death. I knew from the way his shoulders slumped or the way he nodded ever so slightly.

We accepted it.

We knew it.

We left it.

Because….

We were _blinded by fear._


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

_Drowning in Doubt…_

As I walked through the halls of my home every dreadful morning and every silent night, I would be reminded of my torture that I endure every day. The pain of seeing my father walk on the same carpeted floors as I do but never glancing at me, overwhelmed me on more than one occasion.

I had tried. I slit my wrists until I fainted. I snuck into the kitchens and plunged a knife into my abdomen. I had tried to fall off the roof but every time, I never made it far enough to claim my rest.

Every time someone would find me, it would always be some maid or butler. One time, my father found me, lying on the tiled bathroom floor with a knife deep in my body. My dress slowly drowning in crimson and the surface I lay on flooded with blood. I could barely hold my eyes open, but I see through them. When you sleep, your eyes don't fully close. I thought it was creepy, but I guess it's useful now.

I saw his widened eyes, filled with mirth and amusement. At that moment, as the thought registered in my head, I forgot all of my hate directed to him. I wondered, why was he finding this humorous? I was his daughter! He would at least worry or show some emotion when I am lying before him, bleeding to death with a blade trapped between my muscles.

I was screaming, shouting for attention. I needed something, anything. "Show me you care!" My mind had yelled inwardly, but no sound was heard besides the soft chuckle that escaped his lips. I still ask myself why I even bothered, why did I try to grab some sort of reaction from him. I knew it was useless, I still know now.

Maybe it was one of those moments where you just drop everything for the heck of it and bet everything on one moment. But guess what, it isn't worth. It rarely ever is. Those stories you heard on TV or the books on read in class, they aren't true. Donating every penny you have in your accounts and savings, burning the loose change you have just to go for a bitter hike in Alaska and die in the end, it just isn't worth it. I have learnt this the hard way; maybe you won't have to go through what I had to.

I watched someone die. No, I watched someone _burn_ in front of me. I just stared at the one I loved as he was scorched in the flames and engulfed by fire and did nothing as his looked at me in plea. I couldn't do, I couldn't move.

I still feel dead now, every time I reminisce the past a piece inside me dies. It hurts, it agonizes me to the point of depression. As this piece tears itself from the rest, the flesh that still stubbornly connected the shard of my heart to my body slowly ripping and then drowning me in anguish as it flies away.

My father never mentioned the incident, never commented on it. I grew very irritable, becoming frustrated by the slightest change. I was forced to visit a therapist, but it wasn't my father who insisted, it was the maids and the workers around me. Due their constant care and affection that was showered on me daily, I slowly stepped down from my high without the help of the doctors. However, I still needed to attend weekly sessions just to make sure, the sessions were soon cancelled as I was definitely better.

Because of the love I received during my dark time, I always doubted my thoughts. I wanted to leave, to run away from this hell. But I just never built up the grit or determination to turn my heels the other way, sad really. I always wanted to just bolt right out of this mansion, but the smiles on the numerous faces that I pass in the morning fill my mind with buts.

_I want to run…_

But what about the maids?

_I want to hide…_

But what about the butlers?

_I was to escape…_

But what about the people that became my family when I didn't have one?

I couldn't do it; my mind was filled with doubt and worry. I couldn't bear to look at the workers in the eye knowing that I thought of such traitorous things.

So many thoughts drowned my head as I put on my best smile, the pain might not have been that great. But after months, the frustration built up had slowly torn down my walls. I guess I was battle worn and weak back then. I couldn't make my own decisions and that irritated me, I wanted escape.

I wanted to be free, but the doubts never left me. Until one night, I was screaming so loud that even my father was worried. He walked into my room and held my hand. I wasn't opening my eyes, and I was shouting from the fear that stroke inside my head. I was imagining the eyes of my dead love, the last breath my mother took and the look of amusement in my father's face as I slowly bled to death. I imagined stone and iron walls slowly building themselves around the mansion as I banged on the barriers, trying to break free. I was shaking; my eyes were blinded by white hot horror.

Before that dreadful night,

I was drowning, d_rowning in doubt_.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three/Last Chapter:**

_Struggling to be free…._

I was running, finally running with my own legs. After that nightmare, I had finally received the determination I needed. But it wasn't determination, it was ignorance. The fact that I had the nerve to ignore my friends and try to escape is unmentionable now, I was stupid. But I was earning my freedom, although it wasn't glorious.

I have blood on my hands, more that you think. Although the first kill in my life was on accident, watching the man I love die was more than enough to haunt me until now. But I guess it wasn't really murder as he was just simply unlucky. He was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time. I was just lucky, lucky enough to smell the distinct scent to burnt wood and human flesh.

I screamed at night, I fight during the day. I refused to eat breakfast with him so I just ate the cold left overs, I ripped the petals and leaves off the flowers that he sent everyday as something similar to an apology although I know that he never meant it. My maids were terrified by my new attitude, and I was sent to see a therapist again but this time it was me leaving the prison I call home not the other way around. I got to leave the stone walls and steel fences to finally breathe fresh air.

At first, the guards never left my side; they marched around the doctor's home and stood by the windows and doors of the room I was kept in. My therapist was a nice old man, he didn't mind the constant presence of the guards and he didn't mind my attitude, he never commented on either. He would ask me the regular and dull questions that people like him should ask for the first few minutes. Then, he would place his clipboard down and ask me to stand up. I would whip out a key and show him some magic, without my father knowing I managed to get the doctor to teach me to manage my powers as he is also a mage.

One day, he decided to take me around town. He said that fresh air and some light exercise is good for the soul and body. That was when the accident occurred, the most horrendous sight I've witnessed. More horrid and vulgar that the time I saw the love of my life burn away into ashes.

We were eating in a small restaurant and some gangsters walked in, stating that they were looking for a woman named Lucy Heartfillia and suddenly, I felt a cold chill down my spine.

They were looking for me.

They would do anything.

It didn't take long for them to notice my attire, different than the rest. It was horrible to watch, a vile substance was rushing up my throat as I witnessed the sight. They were torturing the old man that was my doctor. The staff and the other customers all ran out as one of the criminals had threatened them, saying that they would kill them all if they had not complied. My therapist didn't leave, he stayed with me.

His last words still ring in my ears now, "Lucy, be brave and run. Escape the shackles that your father locked you in, I believe in you. Please…" His eyes weren't wretched in fear and sorrow at his upcoming death. His dark orbs were filled with determination and trust, courage that was far greater than my own. I was shocked.

They bent his arms in all the wrong angles, his legs were bleeding and soon the life that rang true in his eyes disappeared and tears filled my eyes. He trusted me, he believed in me. He suffered for me.

I screamed in terror as I saw the inhumane way that they murdered hi. He didn't even look like a person, I couldn't take it. My body shook from my loud sobs and shouts. I yelled at the top of my lungs with sounds that couldn't be formed into words. I dropped to my knees and the shook the action sent through my body only amplified my shouts. The men laughed at my state and soon I snapped.

I don't exactly remember what happened but they were dead by the time I became myself once more. I ran away and the guards finally found me in my hysterical state. I was laughing as tears continued to cascade down my cheeks.

It was during that time that I ran away. My therapist had hidden some things for me at his home; I bit my guard's thumb as he held me and dashed towards the place I always visited. I ignored my blood filled dress and my ruined hair, I ended up ripping the ends of the dress so that I could ran faster.

I grabbed the knapsack that was stuffed behind a dresser and walked out the door. I had changed into a loose fitting t-shirt and a pair of shorts that the doctor had bought for me before and breathed deeply.

I finally made it.

I don't need to struggle any more._  
_

I was finally..._ Free._

**A/N:** Sorry for not updating in so long, please forgive me. Thank you for reading, I hoped you enjoyed.

Please review. XD


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